


It's Only Brain Chemicals

by drippinghotguilt



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Baggage, Falling In Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, One Night Stands, Slow Burn, Survival Horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:47:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22168111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drippinghotguilt/pseuds/drippinghotguilt
Summary: Wilson and Maxwell decide to put their differences aside for a night and seek comfort in eachother's warmth. What was meant to be a no strings attached physical relationship quickly leaves Wilson developing feelings he can't quite put a name on. It doesn't feel like love he read all about in romance novels, so he decides to dip his toes into the turbulent sea that is love.
Relationships: Maxwell/Wilson (Don't Starve)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 62





	1. Bubbling Up

An unusual string of noises filled the air- the cracking of invisible feet on dry branches in the pure darkness, the whistling of the trees, leaves rubbing against eachother as they were caressed by the cold hands of the wind, howling in the far distance- and a moans and grunts of two men inside a small tent that was illuminated by the camp fire. Wilson lay sprawled over the poorly sown, thick blanket- this legs spread widely, twitching and swaying with every thrust the older man gave to his body. Maxwell wasn't a gentle lover, but the cruelty of this world and his ageing body stopped him from being as rough as he would like. Besides, both men were tired and unable to sleep, it was only a matter of time they would start engaging in wuch an activity when stress and anxiety weighed on their mind and bodies.

Wilson's moans were scratchy, breakable, but pitched. Maxwell's little grunts were deep and needy, bony wrinkled hands painting a nice red print of their shape on the scientist's hips. Wilson's lips ghosted on Maxwell's neck and collarbone, arms loosely wrapped around his neck as their breaths merged. They were cold, hungry, and in constant terror, sex looked like a much better option than bickering. A new angle Maxwell had taken on made the man under him produce a louder, soft mewl, his eyes wide open and then fluttering shut. It made the skin on Maxwell's body so pronounced; excitement. "You like that?" The magician whispered, settling to abuse that spot, milk every wonderful noise out of Wilsom that he could. "Fuck-" Wilson exhaled, humming in pleasure, yellowing teeth biting into his bottom chapped lip, "Don't stop."

Wilson's hands traveled down Maxwell's back, fingertips ghosting over the aging skin. A stubborn, short tempered man was now so gentle with his hands. A few more minutes filled with ecstasy were enough to drive both survivors to their climaxes. One whimpered quietly, the other grunted like a deprived animal. Maxwell's head dropped lower, tilted, his lips barely touching Wilson's. The scientist contemplated if he should let hinself go even further, would kissing this man seal the deal for the future lasting companionship in these isolated worlds? The thought did not seem so scary anymore, not in this moment. He nudged his head upwards, and let their mouths connect. The contact was breif, but so tragically needy from both parties. Lips danced with eachother, careful not to cause any harm, not to go too far. And then they parted. 

Dark hues met, staring at eacother absently. Wilson wasn't more than twenty to thirty years younger than the retired magician before him, yet their faces wore the same exhausted lines. In truth, Wilson always thought that Maxwell looked really good for his age, and would not guess the number sixty in his wildest dreams. Maxwell grew accustom to the other's face, usually wearing a worried smile or boiling glare, but now it looked so serene, mouth lightly parted so he could suck small breaths in. The oranges and reds illuminating Maxwell's face though the thin tsnt fabric were slowly being obscured by the darkness, which alarmed Wilson. 

"The fire is dying out." He pointed out, and watched Maxwell sit up and turn his head, glancing back at the shrinking flame. "Mhm..." the magician nodded, runninga hand through his hair. "I shall add some wood for the fuel." Swiftly, he put his button up shirt back on, only to envelop his back as a shield from the cold air, and then he headed out. Wilson remained inside, slowly closing his legs with a quiet hiss. Without proper lube, they had to deal with what they could for Maxwell to slide inside, and spit did not do much good. 

The cold outside air was never very kind to Maxwell's poor circulation, and as ge arranged logs to the fire, he couldn't help but shiver. Somewhere in the dark, he could he a pair of eyes. They were cold, dark, full of malice. Charlie.. that must be her. She had every right to look at him in such way, but deep down Maxwell hoped she would cut him some slack and maybe one day forgive his selfish actions.

"Are you coming?" Wilson called quietly.

"Oh.." Maxwell sighed, giving the fire another glance. If lucky, they could catch a few hours of sleep before early morning. "Yes." He did crawl back inside their little fort, immediately feeling the lack of cruel air against his skin. Wilson had already made room for the other- well, as much as he could, and Maxwell gladly laid down, his arms now landing with a gentle at Wilson's hips. The two men huddled together, opting to share the warmth of their bodies and safeguard eachother. The wilderness was not kind with either of them and some love wouldn't hurt.

The morning chill came rather quickly, it seemed that only a few minutes had passed since Wilson had closed his eyes and laid to rest. With a heavy sigh, he let a hand wander around for his companion's body, but instead only felt the blanket and grass at the end of it. This made him glance back at the empty spot on their bed, slightly confused. Had he gotten up already? Did he even sleep? God, this man was worrying him sick. Accepting Maxwell as a survival partner was a challenge, but nothing likw the impossible equations he would solve in his profession. This was far more difficult, there was no formula for human emotion and getting over trauma, there was no regular data that he could use to calculate the probability of then surviving or getting along- it was only raw, human emotion.

And Wilson suffered greatly from trying to interact with people spontaneously. 

Muffled footsteps outside the tent alerted Wilson that Maxwell just might be around looking for some food, or collecting some saplings. They were short with their stocks already and winter was approaching. From under the warm covers, Wilson pulled his pants up, wiggling his bottim into them. He then sat up and proceeded to put on his shirt, tuck it neatly into his trousers before buckling them, and then put on his cheery red vest. 

He got out of the sacred little fort, and lifted his head to investigate. There Maxwell was, standing by the crock pot, checking up on the food. It smelled like carrots and.. something else he wasn't able to pinpoint. 

"Hi." He said, voice hoarse but friendly.

"Good morning." Maxwell replied, giving his partner a polite little smile. It was all the could manage. "Slept well?" He asked, scanning Wilson and down. His hair was a mess, little scientist really needed some self care lectures.  
"Oh-" Wilson brushed his fingers through nest of a hair after catching the other man's eye, "Yeah, it wasn't bad. Wish I could sleep more though." 

Maxwell only nodded, checking the food once again, rather impatiently, and then checking the fire.

Wilson stared, unsure of what to say, unsure of what to do. Last night, he was so very sure that the only think that cause the two men to engage in coitus last night was stress relief, but now.. the way Maxwell looked to Wilson was different. The scientist usually had a very rational mindset, hoping to minimalize his emotions, however this man was now making him feel all sorts of unfamiliar things by merely existing.


	2. Emotions aren't Calculations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for liking my story!! Im sorry for a short and late update, I'm thinking of where to take this story! And I think I know what I'm gonna do~

The campfire is a small source of warmth, but a welcome one nontheless. Both men sit by it, thigh to thigh, enjoying the slight caress of warmth across their fronts while the cruel, cold wind whipped at their backs. They prefer not to speak about last night, but.. it lingers. It is in the air, it stalks them, it is the motive behind their every little chat that day, to try and ease the tension. 

Wilson's busy fingers were toying with a some cables in a small wooden box. He was trying to make a radio of some sorts, something that would pick up a singal of any technology, of any other familiar intelligent civilisation. In truth, Wilson missed humanity. Sitting alone in his mansion, isolated and engrossed only in his experiments was acceptable, because it was done by choice. Because he knew that if he really wanted human connection, he could walk out the door and seek for it. But here his freedom to choose was stripped away. The inventor wasn't in his youngest years, but it was evident that all the stress and lack of sleep was getting to him. Eye bags, pale skin, shaking hands.. he was hardly a picture of attraction.

Yet, he felt five fingers, cold at the tips crawling between the spaces of his own. Maxwell swallowed his pride and decided to seek connetion. Wilson had slight issues connecting the dots with social cues, therefore he decided to be straight with the short scientist.

"I would like to be intimate again. That is, if you'd like that as well." His voice was hesitant, meek, hoping he wasnt bothering his only companion. Wilson looked up, appreciative of Maxwell's forward behaviour. A sigh danced upon his lips as he gave the proposal a thought.   
When Maxwell noted the sigh, he panicked, taking it as defeat- he shook his head, turning lightly to face Wilson better. "We really don't have to. I just thought that maybe, since you slept better we could-"

"Maxwell." Wison interrupted, laying the radio prototype on the ground, before crawling closer. "It's alright. We can.. relieve stress." He offered a weak smile, showing off his dimples. "Science shows that under great stress, and due to fear of death, their sexual libido increases. Either because of adrenaline, or because they simply seek human comfort.

Maxwell chuckled at this. Of course.. of course he would say that. That's his Wilson. The scientist leaned in, letting his lips ghost over Maxwell's, before offering a chaste, but longing peck. "Unless.." he whispered, pressing a hand against the magician's chest for support, "you actually find me attractive." Wilson's suggestion was not a serious one, because his words vibrated with doubtful laughter- who would like a failed chemist that barely took care of his hygene, with a quick temper and potty mouth?

Maxwell would. "I find you reasonably attractive." The confessed, letting his eyes flutter close, a risky sigh carrying the words to Wilson's ears. Wilson paused, and seconds lingered, but then Maxwell felt a warm breath kiss his lips, and Wilson smiling against them. 

"I knew you were a fag." Wilson laughed, causing Maxwell to join him in.  
"But you are too!" Their laughter was loud than the whistling trees and crackling fire. It was full of life, finally something alive. "You are such an asshole." The magician's voice quieted down to a chuckle, the scientist hummed, pressing against his companion. "Oh I know." 

In the next second, their lips met, both lightly parted, capped skin being caressed by warm tongues. Wilson gently crawled in the older man's lap, and was accepted warmly. Wrinkled, freckled hands cupped Wilson's hips, holding him close, not wanting to let go. "I want you to take me under the stars." Wilson whispered into the kiss, moving his shivering hands up little by little, brushing against Maxwell's shirt and shoulders, then settling at his cheeks."I wanna feel you pumping in and out of me while I look at the constellations." 

"Yeah? You wanna babble about stars while I fuck you?" Maxwell teased with a grin, making his partner laugh- but then that laugh melted into a whine, when he felt hands on his rear.   
"Would you listen?" Both men let their eyes open, sharing another peck.   
"I want to hear all about it." 

Soon enough, Wilson was laying down on a blanket near the fire, his pants and bottoms abandoned by the tent, exposing his ass to the biting cold air. But that was okay, because Maxwell was right between his legs, holding his hips, and dotting kisses all over his neck. "So.. you were a magician.." he moaned softly, letting his hands wander all over Maxwell's back, as he felt his body swing with every thrust pumped in and out of him.  
"Yeah.. we are two sides of the same coin." 

"Same coin?" Wilson whined, his mouth hanging open. The feeling of being useful, being wanted- it was good, it was intoxicating. His eyes were glued to the night sky, studying every and each star.  
"Yeah," Maxwell grunted, "We both seek to explore mysteries of this world."

"Mmm..! Fuck.." Wilson mumbled, rocking his hips up to meet the other's thrusts. "I could have you like this forever." He confessed.

"You like me that much?"

"I haven't experienced much. Especially with men."

Maxwell smiled, kissing the corners of Wilson's lips. "You like women?"

"No." Wilson breathed out, "But.. I tried to. I wanted to convince myself I wasn't gay. What... about you?" 

"I swing both ways.. Say, Mr. Scientist.. are we 'deviants' any different than the normals?" Maxwell challenged.

The inventor gave it a thought, which wasn't easy to do while taking a cock up your ass and having your brain turned into mush. "N-no.. We eat the same, drink the sa- ah, same, we.. have the same bones, intestines.."

"So, there's no scientific reason as to why you loving having my cock up your ass is wrong?" Maxwell smiled.

"Oh-" Wilson hiccups a laugh between his loud moans. "Of course not! It's the matter of society's morals.."

"Well then." Maxwell stopped thrusting, earning a needy whine from his darling. He grabbed Wilson by the arms and pulled him up. "Let's forget all morals right now, and enjoy ourselves." 

Wilson nodded, easing himself onto Maxwell again, and then- he bounched his hips. Telling himself that this is alright to do will not resolve all of his grievances, but he could enjoy his lover, let himself be happy for at least a moment.


End file.
